


The Darkest Minds, The Darkest Fires

by Freerangeegghead



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Clexa, F/F, Mutant Powers, Mutants, clexa au, clexaisforever, scifi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16222772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freerangeegghead/pseuds/Freerangeegghead
Summary: In which Clarke Griffin and Lexa find themselves in a dangerous world that fears the future and its children and seeks to destroy them. A/U





	1. Chapter 1

**_Summary_** : In which Clarke Griffin and Lexa find themselves in a dangerous world that fears the future and its children and seeks to destroy them. Extremely AU, OOC. 

 ** _Pairing:_**  Clarke Griffin and Lexa

 ** _TV Show_** : The 100

 ** _Rating:_**  Rated T ~ M. Themes, no smut. Angst. 

 ** _Warnings/Spoilers_** : Femslash. Extremely A/U. OOC.

 _ **Genre:**_ General, a little bit of everything

 ** _Disclaimer_** : Nothing owned, nothing gained, prose all author’s. ** _Give credit where credit is due though. (Please don't download and upload again and pass it off as your own.)_**

 ** _Author’s note:_**  Because the world needs more Clexa. And a lot of straight stories would actually be more fun if they were gayer. As for inspirations - points for you if you guess which stories inspired this one. 

* * *

 

It starts with rain.

It always starts with rain.

Lexa's father had been late picking her up from practice.

She'd stood in front of the building, young girl of eleven, long auburn hair pasted to her face, green eyes looking out for the black sedan that would bear her father and safety and security. He'd already messaged her, said he'd be running late from work at the lab. She used to go to his lab. A fight between her father and mother, an explosion, Lexa waking up in the rubble, fire and rain decimating the lab, her mother dead,her father wounded Lexa uninjured and confused. She barely recalls what had happened. She had been very young - three or four, she thinks. There'd been firefighters, police officers, men in suits talking to her father. She'd sat at the back of an ambulance, huddled in a blanket, medics giving her first aid, amazed she'd survived at all, watching as her father talk to each and everyone of them. Her father had told them she'd been outside, waiting for them, when the explosion happened. She doesn't understand why her father is lying but she knows better than to ask or contradict her father. When they ask, she tells them exactly what her father says.

She remembers it all like it was yesterday. Remembers her father, distraught and crying. Remembers her mother just lying there, lifeless and bloodied. She remembers how someone who'd just been laughing and talking to her only a few minutes ago would now be dead. She remembers her mother in the coffin. Remembers the funeral. Remembers the coffin being lowered into the ground. Remembers wanting to scream and shout and jump into the ground, not wanting to leave her mother alone underground with nothing but dirt for company. She would be in therapy for years after and she would tell the therapist what she wanted to hear. She knows she unnerves the therapist. Pretty much everyone seems to be unnerved by her, the way she looks at them. But she'd always been a precocious child and she doesn't exactly know how to be something other than who she is. She knows though to just keep things to herself, quietly observing the people around her, listening to what they're saying and what they're not saying, fascinated about  each one.

Her father finally arrives, his arrival announced by the car running through a puddle,water splashing and Lexa jumping back. The passenger door opens, her father leaning from the driver's seat to smile up at her. Her father is tall, handsome, chiseled in the way a Greek demi-god would be, eyes as deep and dark green as Lexa's. In another life, Dr. Xander Woods would have been a model or a moviestar. In this world though, Xander Woods is a brilliant research scientist poised to win the Nobel Prize for his researches in pharmaceuticals. Everyone always says Lexa is the spitting image of her father.

 "Hey, kiddo,"her father says, lop-sided grin on his face.

Lexa grins back. "Daddy!"

"Get in, kiddo," her father says.

She gets in in the back and after her father reminds her to put her seatbelt in and pulls out of the curb, he starts talking on the phone.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but it isn't ready, the tests are inconclusive and not all the subjects had positive results," he begins. "Yes, I'm aware about what happened last time..." He pauses. "Yes, I know the explosion set us back a few years but we're making progress now and I don't want to jeopardize that by making any pre-emptive decision about this..." He stops, listens before he says, "It's not ready, sir..."

They stop at a red light. As the car idles, her father ends the call and another one gets through. "What?" he barks into the phone. He pauses, then asks, "What do you mean there was an explosion? How did this happen?"

As the red light turns to green, her father guns the engine talking on the phone. The rain lashes harder. Lexa watches out the window, long fingers tracing the rain on the window. The sky is dark, night has fallen, the road slippery and wet. In the distance she could see the river and the lights of the city. They are now approaching the bridge that would take them to Lexa's family's suburban home.

But just then, Lexa's father turns and says, "Lexa, honey, I'm sorry, but we've got to go back to the office. There was some kind of explosion at the lab and I need to go check it out. Is that okay?"

Lexa nods. Her father is already making the turn to go back to the office. The rain has gotten stronger.

* * *

Clarke Griffin sits in confusion as the judge pounds on the gavel. Her mother had put a hand on her face, her only concession to defeat. Her father, handcuffed and in a suit, speechless and sad. She doesn't know what's going on but she guesses her father has lost and is going to jail. She feels like everything is happening in slow motion, everyone's voices drowned out, she can't speak or breathe, a lump forming in her throat. She feels the tears roll down her cheeks watching her father being taken away. And she stands there, helpless, knowing she may never see him again.

She finds herself thrust into a black sedan, her mother, ever quiet and stoic, sitting beside her. The crowd of reporters with mobile phones and video cameras and microphones and large flashing cameras have come like a tidal wave and it had taken a lot of pushing and shoving and the assistance of the police to get them through it.

Once the car is in motion and they are away, that's when Abby breaks down and young Clarke, small, blonde, barely twelve, gazes at her with fear and helplessness and confusion.

The red light turns green and Abby shifts gears but then the cold barrel of a gun suddenly appears and is pointed at Clarke. "Mom..." Clarke begins.

"Don't say a word, do as I say and your kid won't die," the voice, low, male, gruff, says. "Drive."

Heart pounding, Abby does as she is told, all the while reassuring Clarke that they will be fine. Clarke's hands are curled to fists, clammy and shaking, she can't speak, fear taking hold of her. The car takes a lot of turns before they find themselves by an abandoned warehouse by the docks. The rain has gotten stronger now, with neither one of them able to see beyond a couple of yards.

"Your husband shoulda kept his mouth shut," the man spits out in a thick Jersey account.

 That's when they hear an explosion, and as the man turns, Abby makes her move.

Abby doesn't even think. She tries to hit the man, wrestles the gun away from him and screams, "Run, Clarke!"

Clarke, rooted at first to the spot, springs to action then, and opens the door, stepping out in the rains. "Mom..." She begins.

"Forget about me...whatever happens, don't turn. Go!"

And Clarke runs and runs and runs, even when she hears gunshots and screams and the pounding of footsteps, of shouts for her to stop. When she reaches the edge of the dock, the river below roaring and cold and waiting, she hesitates, looking to the left and right. When the man approaches, blood on his clothes, aims in her direction, pulls the trigger, she decides to jump.

As her body plummets to the waiting river below, she feels a sharp pain on her shoulder, feels her body jerk and as the water rushes to meet her, she feels her eyes close, feels the water and cold close in on her as bullets wheeze past her in the water.

* * *

One minute they are rushing back to the office, through the bridge that would take them back to the city, storm lashing the car on all sides, darkness all around them, the next minute Lexa hears an explosion, as of a tire exploding and the car loses control, skids on the road, turns around and around on the road, hits the rails and plunges down into the river, nose first. Lexa hears herself scream before the car meets the water.

* * *

The car slowly sinks into the river, and the car slowly fills up with water.

"Dad...?" Lexa asks, uncertain, but her father is unconscious, and she sees something protruding out his stomach, body bent like a rag doll against the wheel, face still bleeding.

Lexa tries to open the door but cannot. She tries to wake her father  up but can't. Tries to kick the back winow but can't. Her heart is pounding fast beneath her small chest, and she only notices then that she has suffered a cut on her forehead and right arm, arm bent the wrong way. Pain shoots up her hand, through her arm, her neck and her head. She closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath. Tries to calm herself down. She remembers what her mother had told her once and she murmurs it now, "Don't be afraid...death is not the end...death is only the beginning..." And then she recites something her mother used to read to her from a book of ancient poems, a poem she recites whenever she finds herself in situations such as this: "In peace may you reach the shore..." The waters have now gone up to her neck. She swallows. "In love may you find the next..." The water has now reached her neck. "Safe passage on your journey..." The water is even higher now. She is shivering, teeth chattering. She cannot utter the next words. She takes a deep breath as the water engulfs her, and she finds herself underwater. The water is cold, smells and tastes of fish and muck and mud and rot. She can see her father lifeless in front of her. She gazes at him, holds her breath for as long as she can before she lets go and water fills her lungs.

As she slowly loses consciousness, all she think of is her mother and her father and how this will be over soon.

But then above her, where the roof of the car is, a blinding light appears, as if someone has ripped the air open and a hand, a child's hand, reaches out and grabs her. She reaches out above the water and hands grip her, grab her, and pull her out of the water and into the light.

And then darkness.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa dreams.

In the dream, there is pale early morning sunrise, pink and blue sky, cold, cold breeze on her face, sand on her back, wisps of hair blowing on her face. She tries to breathe. Her body feels like lead. A face. A face blocking out the sun. Face of an angel. Young. Young like her. Chubby, rosy cheeks. Pudgy fingers on her face. Blue eyes. Blue like the sea. Blue like the sky. A voice. Asking her if she is alright. Water. She tastes water and mud and sand. The face looks into hers full of worry and concern. She manages to nod. The face looks relieved, runs a hand on her forehead, her face, her hair. Tells her it's going to be okay. Leans over. Kisses her on the nose. Bright light coming from somewhere. She doesn't remember. A shockwave. Like an energy blast. It throws both of them back.

Then darkness.

***

Lexa wakes up on a bed, in a room, with rows of other beds, patients lying on them. Needle in her arms. Equipment attached to her. Steadily "beep" "beep" of the monitor. Soft bed. Blanket. Hospital gown. Bruises on her arms, hands, legs,feet, head. Pain. Throbbing pain all over. She feels thirsty. Hungry. Alone.

At first she wonders where she is. Then realizes she is in a hospital. She wonders what's happened. Then it all comes rushing back. Flashes of it. The car. Her dad. The rain. The bridge. The river. The car plunging into the river. Feeling cold. And wet. The water going up to her face. Her mouth. Her lungs. Her father just sitting there, still, unmoving.

Her dad. Where is her dad? She feels like crying. The tears start welling up but then she swallows, stops herself. No. Her father wouldn't approve of this. He'd want her to focus. Figure things out. She'd know if he's dead. She'd feel it. He couldn't have disappeared just like that. He would have told her. She takes a deep breath. Tries to calm herself. But what if he did? What's going to happen to her? She looks around, sees that no one is coming for her.

***

When Lexa realizes no nurse or doctor is coming to help, she is curious and decides to get up and go out.

She rips out the needles from her arms, sits up, feels the world spin, pauses before she jumps off the bed and slowly makes her way to the door yards away. The world is still spinning but not as bad anymore, she feels a pounding pain in her head, feels like it's splitting so she leans her head over the door, clutches the knob with her right hand, closes her eyes for a second before she slowly turns the knob. As the door opens she could hear shouts and screams and footsteps and various other noises and a voice over the P.A.system saying, "...please report to the ER stat..." over and over. When she takes a peek, head poking out of the door, she sees people, doctors in white labcoats and stethoscopes and clipboards and glasses and facemasks rushing to and fro on the hallways, some pushing gurneys with patients, children no older than her, coughing and crying and feverish and pale. "Doctor, what's wrong with my daughter? Is she going to be alright?" The doctor turned to her and says, briskly, "I'm sorry, but we just don't know, ma'am, but we'll do the best we can." He had sounded tired, mechanical, like he'd been saying the same thing over and over. She's then craned her neck and saw grief-stricken, crying parents, doctors and nurses trying to comfort them, even as more and more people came in. What is going on? She wonders. She suddenly feels afraid. Where is her father?

Instinct tells her to close the door. She leans on it, not sure what to do. She looks down at herself. Hospital clothes. Bare feet. She needs to change. With a decisive nod, she makes her way to her bed to search for clothes. She sees her old clothes on her bed and quickly changes into them. They smell but she has no choice. She sees her shoes on the floor, but not her socks and shakes out the sand before putting them on, wincing at the discomfort of leather against bare skin. She pats her pockets, feels something in one of them and takes it out. Twenty dollars. She doesn't know if she'll survive on that, but she'll manage. She stands near her bed, uncertain what to do.

 _ _What would dad do?__ she asks herself. Dad. Yes. That's it. Go to dad. Home. Yes, home. Her eyes light up with excitement and purpose. But then she remembers. Daddy is always busy. Always. Maybe check out the office first. She tries to recall where it is. Feels a pounding in her temples. Headache. She's been been driven there enough times to remember. The name. Name of the company. Eligius. Yes, Eligius, Inc. Dad's corporation. Huge, shiny building, right in the heart of Polis City.  Landmarks. That's what her dad told her. Remember landmarks. A Starbucks, a McDonald's, trees...

She hears a groan, interrupting her thoughts. She looks up then. Realizes she's not alone. Counts the beds in the room. Five. Hers the second from the left, near the bathroom. Three more to the right of her bed. Curtains drawns. The one near hers seems to be the one making the noise. She slowly takes a few steps forward, hesitates before pulling the curtain aside.

A girl, blonde, long hair on the pillow. Pale skin. Sweat on her brow. She looks sick. Feverish. With a shock she is surprised  she recognizes her.

"It's you," she whispers with a grimace, blue eyes staring into her green. "By the river...I...there was a light...you were in the car...and then..."

At first Lexa doesn't understand what she is saying but then the memory suddenly comes back. The rain. The car. Her dad. The crash. Plunging into the river. She'd thought it was a dream. Had to believe it was a dream. Else she'd have to believe her father is gone. Dad. But he's not gone. Couldn't be gone.She looks at the blonde-haired girl then and realizes she's telling the truth. The sadness that descends on her makes her unable to breathe. She feels the the tears form in her eyes. Sees the blonde-haired girl try to move closer to the edge of the bed, near Lexa, pale hand reach out, clasp Lexa's where it is hanging by her side. The girl's hand is cold, sweaty.

"I'm sorry," she croaks, voice hoarse,as she coughs.

Lexa swallows down the emotions, looks at the girl, suddenly angry. "Why?"

The blonde girl is confused. "You...the accident...I think you lost someone..." the girl is uncertain, voice trailing off. "I...I think I lost someone, too. My mom..."

Lexa cuts her off. "Why would you be sorry?" she asks, voice cold, emotionless. "It wasn't your fault." That's what her father would have said. Ever the scientist, he hated sentiment, believed only in logic and science.

The girl shakes her head. "I don't know what happened, but if I'd been there earlier I could have..."

"But you weren't, so there's no need to think of what if's," Lexa says again.  Her father had told her that, too.

"You're one creepy kid,"a voice, a boy's this time, says from one of the other beds.

Lexa and the blond girl turn to the right, and a curtain is drawn aside to reveal an older boy, dark, floppy, wavy hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, looking pale but not nearly as sick looking as the blond-haired girl. He seemed to be about fourteen or fifteen.

"Bellamy,"he gasps, coughing, "Bellamy Blake. This is my baby sister, Octavia."

He points to the next bed, curtain already drawn back.  The girl, younger and pale-looking coughs, and says, "Don't freaking call me baby."

"Hey, language,"Bellamy scolds her.

She answers with a smirk and a cough.

"Clarke Griffin," the blonde haired girl introduces herself. "This is..."

"Lexa."

"Lexa,"Clarke says with a smile.

"How long you been here?"Clarke asks.

Bellamy shakes his head. "I don't know. Days maybe. We got sick a few days ago. We were brought here by our parents."

"Foster parents,"Octavia corrects.

"Foster parents,"Bellamy says. "But we're better now. We were put in this room to recover."

"You don't look too good,"Clarke observes.

"A lot of kids getting sick," Octavia comments. "We call it the Sickness."

"The Sickness?" Clarke asks.

"It started with only a few kids getting sick,"Bellamy says. "Teachers thought it was some kind of flu or measles epidemic. God knows those stupid anti-vaxxers campaign enough against vaccines as it is. But then more and more kids kept getting sick. More and more of them kept getting sent home or didn't show up at all. Then finally, some got better and would come back to school. Then..." Bellamy stops, swallows. "Only kids, teenagers would get sick. Never the grown-ups. And then...some of the kids started dying...Then it happened..."

"What?"Clarke asks.

"The incidents,"Bellamy says.

Before Clarke could ask what they were, Octavia says, "Some of the kids who came back from getting sick...came back wrong..."

Clarke grows afraid, grabs Lexa's hand and does not let go. Lexa stares at Clarke's hand in hers, feels something strange, indescribable form in her chest, her stomach feeling like a million butterflies flying in it.

"They started showing...other symptoms..." Bellamy says, "Like when they get angry or upset things would explode or glass would shatter or teachers would suddenly fly smack into the board..."

"We thought it was funny at first, kids poltergeisting their teachers so we didn't have to do pop quizzes,"Octavia says.

"Then it kept getting worse...fires...explosions,"Bellamy says.

"Who were doing it?" Clarke asks.

Bellamy shakes his head. "We don't know..."

"How come we only know about this now?" Clarke asks.

"Where've you been? Have you been living under a rock?"Octavia asks.

"Octavia, don't be rude,"Bellamy says.

"I...haven't been to school in a while,"Clarke says softly.

"I study at Polis Private School,"Lexa says softly.

Clarke, Bellamy and Octavia look at her, surprised she speaks.

"Of course, you do,"Octavia mutters.

"Public schools have been hit the hardest,"Bellamy says. "Overpopulation, overcrowded classrooms, enclosed space - risk of infection was higher..."

He is cut off by Octavia moaning and writhing in pain, groaning, "Bellamy, it hurts..."

"It's going to be fine, Octavia,"Bellamy says, trying to soothe her. "You're going to be fine."

"No, I'm not, and you know it,"Octavia says, grimacing,body wracked with pain. Beads of sweat form on her forehead. "Don't let them take me away,Bell, please. Not again."

"No one's taking anyone away,"Bellamy says, determined look on his face. "Over my dead body."

"Oh, it hurts so bad," Octavia moans.

"Who's going to take you away?"Clarke asks.

"Soldiers," Bellamy says. "Once The Sickness began, soldiers started coming to school, taking the ones who got better, the ones who got sick, the ones who had..."

"Power," another voice says, from the first bed.

They all turn to look at a girl who seemed to be about the same age as the other girls or a little older. She pushes thick glasses back up her nose. She'd drawn back the curtain, looking at them with steady, defiant eyes. "Power. That's what the kids who got better started having.Hi, Raven Reyes."

Bellamy stares at her. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Raven asks. "Unexplained fever? Unexplained incidents? Soldiers? This is so totally right out of a comic book."

"Oh yeah?"Octavia says. "What're they going to do next?"

"First thing's containment,"Raven says. "Contain the sick, contain the panic, contain everything. Most of all, contain the kids. Can't have kids going around with superpowers. Government's going to want to study us, especially the military. They're going to want to weaponize us."

"Bullshit,"Octavia says.

"Octavia,"Bellamy says warningly.

"Whatever," Octavia says, rolling her eyes. "How come you know so much anyway?"

It's Raven's turn to roll her eyes. "I read. Don't you?" When they look at her, she sighs, "That and my dad's a genius scientist, okay? And I overheard some people talking about it."

When Octavia is about to say something, Lexa interrupts and says, "If what you're saying is true, we need to get out of here."

Bellamy, Octavia, Clarke and Raven look at her.

"She's right, we need to leave,"Bellamy agrees.

"We do?" Octavia asks, grimacing.

Bellamy nods. He tries to sit up but falls back on the bed.

"You alright?"Octavia asks but then a new pain wracks her.

"I thought she was getting better, I..." Bellamy breaks off when the door opens and three uniformed army soldiers come in, all armed, one of them carrying a clipboard.

Two of the soldiers are male, one tall, white, in his late thirties or early forties, over six feet and massive, sporting a mohawk and a beard, label on his uniform informing them his name is Gustus.  The other man is younger, shorter and thinner, bald and clean-shaven, black and looks to be in his mid-twenties. The name on his uniform said Miller. He checks them against his clipboard, mutters something to his companions. The last one, a woman, a bit shorter than the man Miller, and who seems to be in charge, says, "Take them all."

Octavia groans then as the soldiers approach.

"Octavia..."Bellamy begins.

"Get away from me!" Octavia screams.

"Bellamy..."Clarke says, afraid, "Your sister's looking kinda funny..."

Lexa, Raven and Bellamy turn to Octavia.

"Is she supposed to look like that?"Lexa asks.

Everything happens like a blur after. The soldiers Miller and Gustus go after the kids, Indra takes out her gun as she screams into her walkie talkie, Bellamy and Raven shout, "Get away from my her!" Octavia screams, Lexa instinctively shields Clarke, Clarke ducks behind her, sheets, pillows, curtains, curtain rods, fly around and Miller and Gustus fall back, Indra stagerring back and soldiers come with a device between them, aiming it at the kids as one of them presses the button and an ear piercing,high-pitched wail. All the children scream, hands to their ears, Octavia stops, and they children lose consciousness.

"Take them all,"Indra orders the soldiers. "Sedate them. We don't want another incident en route to the camp."

***

The next time Lexa wakes up, she is in a prison, handcuffs on hands and feet.

"Hello," a voice says.

Lexa turns to a man. The man is clean-cut, face serious, not old or young but he has a look in his eyes that Lexa is afraid of.

"I'm Dr. Wallace. If you promise to be good, your stay here will be good..."

"What...where are the others?"Lexa asks. "What have you done to them?"

She grimaces, feels an electric charge course through her.

"I also don't like it when kids talk when they shouldn't,"Dr. Wallace says. "Kids shouldn't be seen nor heard. Shut up and we're going to be fine."

Lexa stares at him, feels a mixture of anger and frustration form. The pain he'd inflicted is making her body throb.

"You're mine now, do as I tell you and we'll be fine,"Dr. Wallace says. "And if you think someone's going to come get you...news flash:no one will. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you'll survive."

Lexa looks at him, her young mind trying to comprehend what is happening and failing. But one thing is certain, Dr. Wallace will pay, she will find her father and she will find Clarke. Or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the reader who recently read this and liked it, and for kick_angel. Thank you. :-)


End file.
